Not all nonsense is the writer's fault

Some writing sounds like nonsense because the writer is hiding. Some sounds like nonsense because the reader has decided not to follow it.

The first kind is easy to spot. Big, polished words that promise a lot and say nothing. Try to repeat the point to a friend and you find there was no point to repeat.

The second kind is harder to admit, because the choice is yours. When an idea is unfamiliar or uncomfortable, calling it nonsense is the cheapest way out. You put it down, carry on as before, and nothing has to change.

Think of paying for coffee with a tap of your phone, or renting a stranger's flat for the weekend instead of a hotel room. Plenty of people rolled their eyes at both. Now nobody looks twice.

So how do you know which kind you are reading?

The test I trust is simple: does anyone else understand it? Not the people paid to praise it, but people whose judgement you respect. If they can explain it back to you in plain words, the writing is fine. The gap is in your reading, and only you can close it.

Many of the ideas that changed how people live sounded like nonsense the first time anyone heard them.